Fig jam

We have rented a car- a little Hyundai Accent. It is a big change from my wonderful Toyota RAV 4 (who I miss soooo much), but it gets the job done. I was a little nervous to drive in Turkey, what with the left-hand drive, really steep gradients, not knowing the ways and not speaking the language, but having Abbu over was a big help. He'd sit next to me and navigate and not freak out even when I drove over curbs as I clung dangerously close to the right side of the road.

I am getting more and more comfortable driving around and exploring my immediate neighborhood and today after dropping R to the metro stop managed to find the local farmer's market. It certainly isn't as glamourous as it sounds- more sabzi mandi than California if you know what I mean- but oh the produce...

I can say my numbers in Turkish up to 20, which is only mildly helpful and means that I can only purchase things in kilos as I still can say half! So I could buy 5 apples but had to buy a kilo of figs. I absolutely adore fresh figs and figs, goat cheese, honey and black pepper is a combination made in heaven. But these figs are gorgeously ripe- already bursting at the seams and even I can't down a kilo of figs before they start to rot. So off to the local pazar I went for some tarcin and seker to make some jam. (Am really good at buying things that sound the same as in Urdu: incir for figs, tarcin for cinnamon, seker for sugar) and even found some jam jars and lids on sale- so clearly making jam is the thing to do come the end of summer.

My earliest memories of homemade jam date back to childhood summers in Quetta. During the summer we would always go spend a couple of days at the ancestral family home in Pishin with Aunty Jennifer. The house had several old apricot trees and the apricots were the more golden, fragrant variety- perfect for jam. Amma would always bring back some and we would help her split them into halves for jam. She would also crack a few kernels to mix in with the jam, which made it seem so luxurious and unlike any shop-bought stuff. After we moved to France Amma came to visit one summer and we went strawberry picking, bringing back 5 kilos of the stuff- which she quickly converted into a rather runny but delicious jam.

Getting ready

So here I am, making fig jam in my very basic kitchen- I have no recipe and no way to weigh the sugar- so am just going by instinct. I have quartered the figs, grated in some lemon zest, squeezed in the lemon and thrown in a couple of cinnamon sticks with around a cupful of sugar. It is all bubbling away, perfuming the kitchen quite nicely. The color has changed from a pretty blush pink to a decadent plummy wine, and I think it has gelled quite nicely.

A little hot dollop on a crust of organic bread is heavenly. 

I quickly pour it into my two waiting jars, when I have a eureka moment and I reach into the fridge for some yogurt purchased just this morning. How unctuous is this: (and don't you love the glass pot it is sold in? I just can't get over the fact that the figs came in an old-fashioned paper bag, the milk comes in bottles and the yogurt is glass pots).

A few tablespoons of rich, thick yogurt topped with a scoop of fresh fig jam....can't get more moreish than this :) Here's to an afternoon well spent!